


That Laugh

by TheJokersEnigma



Category: Batman: The Telltale Series (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, I don't know what I'm doing with this, but my last one got a lot of love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-03-30 15:09:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13954242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheJokersEnigma/pseuds/TheJokersEnigma
Summary: Ok, the title is shit, but I’m really lacking in ideas/imagination at the moment.I had a couple people say they liked my oneshot of John Doe I did the other day, so I came up with this as a possible series starter - though I don’t know where I plan on going with this at all, except from a few vague scenes that might be interesting (so if you want to see more and have any ideas, let me know).





	1. Chapter 1

You dropped quietly onto the tin roof of the small house-like building just below you, glancing briefly back up at the hole in the sky light you had just slipped through - glad the window pane hadn’t been too difficult to remove – before then turning your attention back to the job at hand. You crouched low to the roof, sticking to the shadows, and edged your way slowly forward.

The building you currently crouched on, stood over the rest of the subway, offering a good vantage point to scan the dimly lit room. The main light source came from the industrial lights arranged throughout the room or strung up around the pillars that supported the domed roof overhead. Your eyes followed the thick wires leading from these lamps, most of which then disappeared behind the piles of crates stacked randomly, und and probably lead to a generator somewhere.

What quickly drew your eye was the other house-like building situated directly in front of you on the main lower level. It had possibly a ticket house or old café building before, but now the front was draped haphazardly with purple, red and green fairy lights and, over the door, someone had hung a wooden sign at an angle, the original writing having been painted over, so that it now crudely read HA HACIENDA in large bright green letters.

It kind of gave you that creepy feeling of a haunted house at a carnival.

You glanced away to your left where there was the subway car - clearly the remains of a crash judging by its odd angle – with wooden boards lent up against the front of the train to allow people access to the roof. You noticed the sides of the car were also covered in brightly coloured graffiti – most of which you were sure probably hadn’t been there when it first crashed and matched some of the artwork and writing you could see on the HA HACIENDA building.

The rest of the room, as you continued to look around, was relatively bare at the moment, aside from the lights and crates randomly scattered around. There was something in the far left corner, it seemed, but that part of the room was largely covered in shadow making it difficult to make anything out for sure – though something looked like a stack of large tyres.

The only other thing that caught your eye was an odd glowing blue colour coming from an archway on your left - steam seeming to be drifting up from whatever was down there. That must be something to do with Freeze. You had heard he was here - that he was part of this ‘pact’.

Finally, you edged a bit further across the roof to look directly down, past the walls of the house, and onto a slightly raised platform where there was a group of rickety chairs surrounding a table, pin boards lining the side closest to the subway car. Like a meeting room.

Bingo.

You had chosen the middle of the day for a reason, hoping that meant there would be little activity around the hideout as most of their work too place under the shadow of night. As you now looked around, it was clear you had been right – you could detect no movements.

This gave you the perfect opportunity to scope out the place without being too worried about watch your back. You crept even further forward now, remaining low. The weather outside might be Gotham’s usual dreary clouds and misty rain, but there was still an appreciable amount of light filtering its way through the filthy skylight above you that meant you needed to be careful to remain in the shadows.

You had dropped to your stomach now, pushing yourself over the edge of the tin room, trying to get a glimpse of the information on the pin boards without risking exposing yourself by actually climbing down.

You suddenly jumped when you felt something tighten around your ankle, unable to help the gasp of surprise that escaped you and, before you knew it, you were being dragged backwards across the roof.

You weren’t sure what the person attached to the other end of the hand thought would happen when they dragged you off the roof, but clearly not that you would inevitably fall and land on top of them.

“Ow!” The person cried as they were knocked to the roof of the subway cart by your weight. As you fell, you caught a glimpse of white skin, green hair and a flash of purple, but you scrunched your eyes closed as you then collided with them. Whoever you had fallen on was quite skinny, not particularly cushioning your fall and you let out another gasp as you fell painfully half on them and half on the metal roof of the train. You ignored the pain radiating through your hip for now though, scrambling to your feet again as quickly as you could, stumbling thanks to the steep angle the train car was sat at, and then made to run for the nearest hiding place you could see. As you went to move, however, a hand caught your ankle again and your momentum brought you crashing back down to the train. This time, your jaw collided sharply with roof and you cried out in agony. Vaguely you thought you heard someone yell, but blood was rushing in your ears and you ignored it, flipping onto your back to glance down at the green haired man where he had thrown himself onto his stomach to grab you before you could escape.

His eyes caught yours and he grinned up at you, somehow enjoying this.

“ALRIGHT! Who’s the numbskull that interrupt my beauty sleep?!” In your pause of activity, you heard the loud, brash yell that time, sounding like it was coming from the other side of the building next to you. The man holding you paused at the shout, his head turning towards it, and you made the most of this, kicking out your legs and connecting your foot with his jaw. He cried out, releasing your angle and you quickly used your arms to shuffle back before scrabbling to your feet again.

“Bane I swear if your doing weights in the middle of the day again –!“ The feminine, heavily accented voice growled as you slipped down the opposite side of the crashed train, landing on the crates stored down the narrow alley way between the car and the stone wall. You dived out of sight among the boxes, hoping you had moved fast enough that the green haired man hadn’t noticed where you’d gone.

You strained your ears, listening as the man got to his feet above you and then proceeded to walk across the metal roof of the car. Suddenly he let out a high pitch creepy giggle. “I know your still here…” He giggled. “Come out come out wherever you are…” You listened to his steps as he paced the subway car, likely peering into the shadows, looking for a sign of you. “Eeney, meeny miny mo – wait – no - that’s not right,” He muttered to himself. “I spy with my lit – no – no - that’s not it either,” He growled, annoyed and you could practically hear him shaking his head. “O, o!” He suddenly cried excitedly. “Marco!” He called loudly, then pausing, no longer pacing, as though listening for the answer. You heard the man sigh loudly, his steps returning again, moving back up and down the cart. “Look, whoever you are…” He growled through gritted teeth, “You’re supposed to say ‘Polo’.” He explained, sounding annoyed, but then he suddenly burst into another short fit of that same creepy laughter again.

You held your breath, sensing him now stood directly above you. You were pretty sure you were completely covered in darkness of your hiding place, but you didn’t dare move apart from covering your hand over mouth to try to muffle the sound of your breathing. When you did finally dare to glance up – not having heard anything further from the man, you could see his pale almost outline above you by the light from skylight behind him. He wasn’t looking down at you though, instead he was glancing up and down the small alley you were crouched in, searching the other dark corners. It wouldn’t be long until he turned his attention on you and, despite the shadows, if he was looking hard enough he was bound to spot you. You were stuck waiting for the inevitable. You dropped your head back down, chin on your chest, the silly and highly inaccurate idea coming to mind that if you couldn’t see him he couldn’t see you – or at the very least you wouldn’t be as tempted to move under the suspense of him searching the shadows around you.

It was painfully quiet, and you wondered how long you were going to have to wait, fighting the urge to look up at him again. Were you scared? You’d definitely been in scarier situations. Oddly you weren’t sure the man above you did scare you – at least not in the way others had. But then you remembered his laugh. That creepy haunting sound. That scared you.

As if on que that laughter rang out again above you and then there was a dull thud directly in front of you making you startle and snap your head up. The man had found you and jumped down from the train cart, landing on a crate in front of you, staring down into the shadows where you crouched. “Bingo.” He sang, that possessed grin on his face again. You froze, unsure what to do now. You had no way out except for climbing up, but that would lead you straight to the oddly pale man.

You opened your mouth, but the feminine voice sounded again, now much closer. “Puddin’?” She called, and you could hear the frown in her voice.

‘Puddin’ remained crouched in front of you, twisting his torso to glance back her. “Harley!” He grinned in greeting. I knew I had heard that female voice before - Harley Quinn. The once-psychiatrist now turned crazy psychopath. From what I heard, she was possibly the one in charge of the ‘pact’ and I felt myself shrink further back into the shadows, knowing what was to come next and knowing it was going to take a miracle to get me out of this “I just f-“ ‘Puddin’ began before pausing, as though thinking for a moment, then stood up, turning his back on you to fully face Harley. “Uh – I couldn’t sleep.” He mumbled, shrugging bashfully. You felt yourself frown in the dark. What was he doing? Was he not telling her about you?

“I don’t care what ya doin’ John, just do it quietly.” She growled in annoyance.

You saw John nod obediently. “Sure, Harls, sure.” There was a moment of silence and you imagined Harley glowering at John a little longer - as though to check she had thoroughly scared him – before you then heard her heels clicking on the concrete floor as she stormed off again.

John kept his back to you, watching Harley go until the sound of her door closing echoed around the cavernous room. At that point, he spun back to you. If you could of, you would have taken the opportunity of their conversation to have slipped away, but you knew if you tried to make a move of your hiding place Harley would surely have seen you.

You didn’t know why ‘John’ hadn’t ratted you out, and - though you were ridiculously grateful not to have Harley know about your presence – you were much more concerned right now with why this ‘John’ had kept you a secret.

The man in question now turned back to you, a wide grin on his face. “Wow!” He breathed in relief. “I’ve never lied to Harley before!” He exclaimed in an excited whisper, “What a rush!” I looked at him slightly confused, definitely not fearing this man – there was something almost childish about him…

“Congratulations.” You muttered dryly, thinking there wasn’t much point in crouching uncomfortably anymore and pushing yourself up.

“Thanks!” He beamed, completely missing your sarcasm. “You know, it’s actually good to hear ya talk!” He exclaimed. “I was starting to worry you were of those mute types, and I don’t know any of that sign language stuff…” He muttered, waving his hands around as though to illustrate this. You raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him. “Anyway…” He said quickly, dropping his hands bashfully at the look on your face.

“Why didn’t you tell her I was here?” You asked him quickly, before he could start rambling again. You presumed John must be part of the ‘pact’ – not looking like the typical goon – but that just made it even more strange that he hadn’t turned you over to the others.

John glanced back at where Harley had been a moment ago, then rubbed the back of his next anxious. “Well – uh –“ He began, glancing back at you. “Harley – when I tell her about things… She – – she tends to take them for herself…” He explained, frowning and dropping his eyes from yours. He glanced back up, catching sight of face. “Not that I mind!” He explain quickly, “It’s just she – she has a habit of… breaking those things…” You swallowed thickly at what this might mean if a person was that ‘thing’. “I – uh – guess I wanted to keep something for myself for once…” He mumbled.

“Gee, thanks…” You muttered unenthusiastically, not particularly pleased about being this ‘something’. John grinned at you, slightly confused, but missing the sarcasm again. You looked at him funny - unsure whether he was messing with you or if this was genuinely him. His grin remained, but John now glanced around, as though unsure what he was supposed to do now - maybe not having expected to get this far. You were half tempted to try and run again - maybe you’d be able to take the seemingly slow guy by surprise and get away back the way you’d came through the skylight.

“I know that look, missy!” John exclaimed, reading your mind, “and I wouldn’t!” He sang - nothing threatening in his tones, but his eyes flashed with something dark and possibly dangerous, making you think twice. “You’re gonna come with me,” He told you sternly, then his face softened, “and – uh – we’re gonna have a… a little chat – yeah – see what ya’ve got to say for yourself.” John told you, trying to be stern, but sounding like a small child trying to tell someone off – copying a speech he’d clearly heard somewhere, and not completely sure what he was doing. John glanced around warily - as though checking if Harley or anyone else had come back - then reached forward to grab your wrist. You instinctively pulled back and John faltered for a moment - his face falling at your reaction - before a new look of determination flashed across his face and he gritted his teeth, snatching your wrist regardless. “You wanna get out here alive, missy” He growled lowly at you, narrowing his eyes, “then I suggest you cooperate and don’t make too much noise…” With that he pulled you after his as the two of you made your way over and around the crates out of the alley and into the rest of the subway towards the oddly decorated HA HACIENDA.


	2. Part 2

You glanced briefly up at the array of fairy lights that decorated the front of the wooden cabin before John led you into his house. Once you’d stepped over the threshold, he released your arm and stepped aside to let you walk past him before closing the door behind you. You could feel his eyes on your back as you now glanced around the interior.

The guy was resourceful, you could give him that, clearly having made the most out of what he could find in the subway and what had come with the little hut, but it was also a bit creepy. The walls of the hut were decorated with large painted grinning faces, and a number of clown masks hanging from nails. On your right was a small cabinet filled with a few books, a vase and a selection of pill bottles - one of them spilt – littering the top of it. You stepped further into the house, the shadows in the back of the room dimly illuminated by a variety of industrial lamps and tube bulbs that were strung above you. Directly in front of you, against the back wall, was a chest of drawers, a wheelchair to the right of it, and a bed made from what looked like a stack of crates on its left. What struck you most about the room, was the number of pictures sat on surfaces or hanging on the walls. Each frame contained John - his grin wide and obvious – but the other occupants ranged widely. You recognised some of them – Harley Quinn, Freeze, a woman in a white doctor coat, a man in a leather jacket who looked familiar, even Bane – though Bane looked less than pleased about the photo.

“Home sweet home.” John declared behind you with a little giggle, spreading his arms wide after closing the door. You nodded at this as you looked around, not looking back at him, though you still noticed when the man dropped his arms and silently reached for something next to him. “How about we have that – uh – ‘little chat’ now?” He suggested, grinning at your back.

“Sure.” You nodded amiably, “But the gun’s not necessary.” You pointed out, not bothering to look back at him as you continued to step further into the room.

John’s grin fell in surprise, not aware you’d noticed his hand go for the weapon a moment ago “I – uh – “ He faltered, glancing down at the gun now in his hand. His brow furrowed as he though through his options, then seemed to steel himself again, raising his head to glower at your back again. “I think I’ll be the one to make that decision, thank you.” He growled in annoyance, narrowing his eyes at you. 

“Fine,” You shrugged, your back still to him, “all I’m saying is, you don’t need it.” You said honestly, an almost bored expression on your face as you now reached the end of the room and turned to finally face where John still stood by the door, the gun hanging by his side. He was staring at you, his tilted head, eyebrow raised, and lips slightly parted, clearly confused by you. You weren’t exactly acting like a normal ‘prisoner’.

But then was John really the one to know about ‘normal’?

John shook his head then, trying to clear his head. “It – it doesn’t matter what you’re saying,” He growled in frustration, this clearly not going according to his plan. He tried to stand firm though, refusing to have this girl undermine him. “I’m the one with the gun,” He waved it around carelessly, “so I’m the one that calls the shots.” He declared, pointing a thumb at his chest as he now brought the pistol up to aim it directly at you.

“Trust me, I’ve been doing this for a while, I know how these things work…” You muttered, slowly lifting your hands into the air in surrender, trying to keep yourself calm despite this man’s rather erratic state of mind.

There was a flicker of something in John’s face at your confession, but the it was gone as quickly as it came, a wide grin spreading across his face as he now began to move towards you. You watched him warily - sure, you’d been in this sort of situation a few times, but each guy with a gun was different, and John was a character you weren’t sure you had encountered before.

He stopped just in front of you, still grinning widely and you had to wonder what was putting that humour in his eyes. Suddenly your head was snapped violently to the and you let out a gasp of pian at the sting on your right cheek.

John had just backhanded you with the gun.

You kept your head bowed to the side, knowing that if you straightened up you were likely to be attacked again. You lifted your hand to your smarting cheek, then brought your fingers in front of your eyes, cheeking for blood. Shit. You thought when you saw the familiar shiny red on your fingertips. You quickly put your fingers back your cheek, seeking out the small cut in an attempt to stem the blood.

So, he was one of those guys. A merciless power player. Odd, his previous actions hadn’t warned you of that.

“Oooo, geez!” You heard John say from above you, and you glanced out of the corner of your eye up at him to see his go eyes wide as he covered his mouth with his hands, muffling the nervous giggle of laughter that escaped his lips. “Sorry!” He cried, dropping his hands, reaching them out to you slightly. “I just - that’s what Harley always does!” He explained, “I – uh – I didn’t expect it to be that… Brutal…” He confessed, “I – I really felt your head snap!” He grinned, acting out the movement with his hands.

You frowned up at him, raising a questioning eyebrow at his apparent joy at this. “Yeah…” You muttered, “It sure did…” You glanced away again, rubbing your cheek as you finally straightened up. John’s eyes met yours again and your expression seem to make him remember himself, offering you an apologetic smile, followed by another nervous hiccup of laughter.

You glanced away, and John hung his head, seeing you clearly didn’t forgive his actions that easily. His eyes travelled around the room hopelessly until they lit up at something. “Oh! Uh…. Take a seat!” He exclaimed, gesturing back at the wheelchair behind you.

“I think I’m fine, thanks.” You muttered, moodily.

John’s face dropped again and this time there was a flash of annoyance across his face. “I still have the gun, you know girly…” He growled, “And I’m not the bad guy in this place.” He glared. “Now. Take a seat.” He offered again after a pause, his tone lighter again, but there was now still the lingering threat in his voice. You eyed John for a moment, but then glanced back at where he gestured and did as you were told. “Good.” John beamed down at you as you settled back in the chair, hand still on your cheek. “Now let’s have that chat.” He grinned, rubbing his hands together with a wide grin as he perched on the very edge of the makeshift bed on the opposite side of the chest of drawers.

You didn’t say anything, neither encouraging, nor refusing him. John’s smile didn’t falter though as he now leant forward, his legs wide, leaning his elbow on his thighs, letting the gun hang loosely between his legs – clearly in no rush to use it again, but also not trusting you enough to put it away. “So… lets start with an easy one…” He grinned widely. “What’s ya name?”

You glanced over at him, “[Y/N].” You muttered without hesitation.

“Pretty.” He commended, his eyes bright. “And why, [Y/N],” He beamed, “Were you on the roof?”

Your eyes didn’t leave his, “I heard you were looking to hire.” You told him truthfully.

“And you thought the interviews were on the roof?” He asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“No.” You said, “I like to scout out an opportunity before I go after it – the people I work for are always passing things off as ‘need-to-know’, well,” You shrugged, “I like to know.”

John frowned as he thought on your words, narrowing his eyes, then he suddenly sat up, his usual grin spreading across his face again. “Makes sense to me!” He declared happily, chuckling again. Then a thought seemed to occur to him and his smile dropped once more, his brow furrowing again. “But, ya know, if Harley saw you – even Freeze, o-or Bane,” He made a face like that would be by far the worst option, “they woulda strung ya up straight away. No questions asked!” He exclaimed, waving his arms in a cross.

“Does that mean that’s what your gonna do?” You asked warily, and he raised an eyebrow at you in confusion. “As you’re playing copycat.” You clarified, shifting the fingers on you cheek suggestively.

John’s face clouded with annoyance. “I said I was sorry.” He sulked, “I didn’t-“

“Puddin’?!” The familiar yell, cut John off and you immediately froze in your seat as a series of hard knocks shook the door.

“Shit.” You muttered under your breath, knowing you were trapped in this tiny room. John glanced anxiously between you and the door, seeing the problem.

“Looks like your – uh – ‘job interview’ might be coming a bit early.” He muttered with a quiet giggle, though there was no humour in his eyes.

“John,” You whispered pleadingly, dropping your hand and turning to face him fully now. “You helped me before,” You reminded him, desperately “is there any way you can help me again?”

“Puddin!” John’s eyes flickered between the door, which was hit with another series of bangs, and then back to you, his eyes clearly anxious as he calculated what he to do.

“John! I know ya in there!” Harley yelled through the wooden, “Answer the door before I knock it down!” John finally stood up, still not having told you what his decision was. You watched him uneasily as he paused, nervously ran a hand over his hair, and then headed for the door. He shot you one last look over his shoulder, before reaching for the handle.

“Harls!” He exclaimed happily, though the nerves were clear in his voice, “I thought you’d gone back to – to get your – uh – beauty sleep.” He stuttered with forced smile. “Not that – uh – you need it or – uh – anything.” He said hastily, his grin failing.

“What took you so long to answer, John?” You heard Harley ask suspiciously and you wondered if you ought to try to move from the chair to take cover somewhere, John was currently blocking you from Harley’s view, but any movement you made might catch her eye.

“Oh – well – you see - I – uh – I was just –”

“John…” Harley warned darkly. “Ya got somethin’ ya need to tell me?”

“Oh, Well, Harls I - it’s just that I’ve – uh – I’ve been entertaining!” He finally confessed, flinching away as though expecting the berating that would follow, maybe even an assault.

“You’ve been what?!” Harley growled angrily, “Entertain’ who, John?!” She demanded. “I thought I tol’ ya to keep that big yap of yours shut or else I’d sew it up! Do I need to get myself a needle, John?!” She snarled. You watched John hang his head in guilt and you felt ashamed of putting him through this, after all, he was actually trying to defend you for some reason. “Who’d ya tell about this place, Puddin’?!” Harley now demanded. Just then, her gaze flickered over John’s shoulder and caught sight of where you sat motionless in the wheelchair. You saw her jaw clench and she roughly shoved John aside to stride into the room, simultaneously drawing a gun on you. You recoiled slightly.

“Who’s the rat, John?” She growled, addressing John rather than you.

“Oh, her?” John said quickly, spinning around, but remaining by the door. “She’s - uh – she’s m - my – my sister!” He exclaimed suddenly. You felt your eyes widen at this but tried to keep your expression of surprise to a minimum.

“I thoughts you didn’t have any family, Puddin’?” Harley questioned, calling his bluff. “At least not memory of them.” She reminded him, a sly look in her eye.

“Well – uh – uh - I didn’t think I did.” John confessed, dropping his head as he shook it. “But – uh – then [Y/N] here got in contact with me – must have tracked me down.” He insisted, stepping towards the two of you, fiddling nervously with his hands,

“Oh, she did, did she?” Harley asked, turning her eyes back on you. “And just how did little ‘sis’ ‘ere do that, hmm? When you couldn’t even remember your own name?” She sneered at you.

You tried to keep your face blank, hiding the fact your mind was now desperately searching for an explanation. John was looking at you beseechingly behind Harley. He had done what he could, it was up to you now. You glanced up at the mad woman whos gun was still trained on you. “That’s my job.” You told her truthfully. Harley raised her eyebrows at you in disbelief. “I’m a freelance.” You explained, “I recently found myself in Gotham and heard some interesting talk on the streets,” You continued, “I decided to dig a bit more into the stories and discovered John who seemed familiar. I decided to track him down to see if what who I thought it was,” You glanced past Harley to John, “My brother.” You confirmed looking at him in the eye. He nodded with an encouraging grin, giving you a thumbs up, though he quickly dropped it when Harley glanced suspiciously back at him. He gave her an innocent smile.

“And this,” Harley glanced back and forth between the two of you, “this ain’t got nofin’ to do with all that noise earlier?” She asked sceptically.

“Nope, nothing.” John swore shaking his head, and you thought he looked a bit like a boy scout.

Harley glowered at John for a beat before turning fully back to you again. She studied you for a moment as well, her face guarded. “I don’t turn away family.” She confessed finally, her eyes still narrowed as they watched you. “If they can be trusted.” She added, still glowering, clearly still not happy with the situation. “The same rules apply to you,” She jabbed her gun towards you, “as they do to John over there,” She nodded backwards, “Ya don’t say a word to no one abou’ this place, or anythin’ ya hear, capeesh?” She leered in your face. You gave her a single nod. Harley held your gaze for a moment, then slowly straightened up again, finally lowering her gun though her eyes, her face lightening. Her eyes flickered over you one last time, then she turned her back on you and began to swagger towards the door. She paused next to John whose face was close to jubilant over your successful ruse. Harley leaned in towards him. “I’d watch your little sis, there, Puddin” She muttered close to his ear, nodding her head back towards you. “‘Cause if she screws up, you’ll both be taking the fall.” She warned darkly before continuing her way out of the hut, slamming the door shut behind her.

When the door closed, you let out the breath you had been holding and your ‘brother’ began to laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finished! Yay! I’ve had this part sat around for a little while now, but I’ve finally got round to finishing it (Thanks to watching hours of Enemy Within now haha)
> 
> Hope it’s alright!


	3. Part 3

Word soon got around that you – John’s apparent sister – were now hanging around subway hideout, despite the fact you had spent most of your time hiding out in the ‘Ha Hacienda’.

You had protested at first when John had offered to share his small house with you, but he had continued to insist rather earnestly - especially when you were supposed to be siblings – and you had eventually, reluctantly, given in. Now, after a few days, you were beginning to get use to the odd man that was John Doe and couldn’t help taking a liking to his almost-innocence, hardly seeing how he fit in the pact when most of the time he didn’t seem capable of hurting a fly. But then he’d laugh when Frost froze – and then proceeded to smash to pieces - someone who got in the cold man’s way one too many times, and you would remember there was definitely something slightly twisted to John. None the less, the short time you’d spent in the hideout had been mostly with him, and you were beginning to think of him as something of a friend.

When you began to venture out of the little once-ticket-hut, you found most of the people that milled around the subway – mainly Bane’s men – regarded you with something of caution and suspicion - your first encounter with Bane himself had been interesting which involved him kindly threatening your several times as he preached about loyalty and cracking his knuckles on multiple occasions.

Now though, you’d been amongst the ‘pact’, as they called themselves, long enough that you could feel everyone slowly beginning to relax a bit more around you when you caused no upset to their usual routine.

Despite the apparent acceptance of the gang, though, you were still surprised when Harley interrupted one of your day dreams to call you over and offer you the opportunity of a job.

Harley was stood with John at the foot of the wooden stairs that led up to the walkway where her ‘office’ was situated - she didn’t look too impressed with whatever conversation she’d been having with her ‘Puddin’, but John was grinning at you as you approached cautiously.

“[Y/N], you’re goin’ with John.” Harley told you.

“What? Where?” You asked, surprised by this announcement.

“John’s got a little job to do for me.” She said vaguely, turning her eyes back on John, batting her lids teasingly. “An’ he’s not gonna screw this one up, are you Puddin’?”

“No, Ma’am!” John grinned, saluting her.

“Good boy.” She praised. “Remember what I told you, John.” She warned, giving him a look. “An’ don’t have too much fun.” She suddenly teased light heartedly with a smirk, winking at him before she turned and strode off without another word, completely ignoring you. You frowned after her as she walked away, still very confused, and glanced back questioningly at John who was grinning at you widely, clearly excited about something.

“Not time like the present, hey buddy!” John beamed, already turning and heading off towards his house.

“Hang on! Wait, John!” You called after him, reaching out to grab his arm and pull him back. He faltered and looked back at where you held him with raised eyebrows, surprised by the contact. “Sorry.” You said quickly, releasing him, ignoring the weird jump of your heart. “Can you – can you tell me what’s going on?” You asked, trying to ignore the slight shake in your voice.

“Oh – uh – yeah – yeah, of course!” John said and, if you didn’t know better, you might think he had also been affected by the contact as well. He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s pretty simple really,” He admitted, “Harley just needs us to pick her up something.”

“What, exactly?” You asked warily.

“Well, she was pretty vague, just gave me a location.” John admitted. “But,” The grin spread back across his face as he dropped his arm, all embarrassment vanishing. “Hooo hoo!” He giggled gleefully, “It’s going to be so much fun!”

You furrowed your brow at his excitement, wondering what could be so fun about running an errand for Harley. “Where is it we’re going, John?” You asked suspiciously.

His eyes widened in surprise. “Oh - right, yeah – that might be useful.” He muttered to himself. “It’s the old factory down Beeker street – Harley use to work there in another gang,” He explained. “Said she left some stuff behind when she was taken to Arkham and she wants it back.”

“And you really don’t know what we’re going after?”

John furrowed his brow at this, then raised an eyebrow at you. “Why is that important?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I just like to know what I’m doing, and generally why, I’m doing them.” You admitted.

John seemed to frown at you like he didn’t buy it, but his grin suddenly reappeared. “Makes sense!” He exclaimed cheerfully. “But I honestly don’t know.” He confessed. “Scout’s honour!” He swore at the look on your face, raising his hand. “Harley’s not a big sharer.” He muttered, dropping his head sadly. “But you’ll still do it though - right?” John asked anxiously, glancing up at you. “Took a lot to get Harley to let you come.” He admitted.

“You’re the one that wants me to go?” You asked, surprised.

“Of course!” He exclaimed like it was obvious, “You said you came here for a job, right?” He asked, “And you’re – you’re my friend…aren’t you, [Y/N]?” He asked, worriedly, his eyes beseeching.

You smiled gently, feeling the warmth in your cheeks. “ I think I am, John.” You admitted with a smirk. You liked the idea of being able to John a friend – he was odd, but he was sweet.

John grinned widely at you. “Well, that’s what friends do!” He exclaimed “They help each other out -right?”

“Of course.” You smiled happily.

John beamed at you, then let out an excited giggle. “Come on then, buddy,” He stressed, chuckling “Let’s go find some toys for our little job…” He grinned, almost sinisterly, stepping aside and bowing, sweeping his arms out in a gesture that told you to go first. You smirked at his theatrics and moved past him towards the house the two of you shared, John closed behind.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

John giggled nervously next to you as you both surveyed the scene beyond the large wooden crate you were both crouched behind.

“You didn’t tell me there was still a gang here!” You muttered annoyed at him as you watched the few men you could see mill seemingly aimlessly around the large delivery entrance to the old rusted factory.

“Opps.” John giggled next to you, unable to help himself and you just rolled your eyes. You knew there was nothing much you could do about it now, you were here with the equipment you thought you’d need for the job and you’d just have to make do with it.

“Please tell me we aren’t going in completely blind.” You murmured, glancing over at John.

John’s face turned serious. “Harley said her stuff was in her old office,” He told you, “- uh – behind one of the ceiling boards.”

“Do you know the way to get in there?”

“Eh – well – no.” John admitted guilty, rubbing the back of his neck, “But – but Harley did say it was – uh -” He frowned as he tried to remember, “She said it the back room on the far left – no – right – yeah the right. Third floor.” He nodded with a grin. “Looks directly at the Gotham Casino sign across the water.” He recited dutifully.

You nodded, “Ok, that’s something.” You murmured, glancing back out into the wide space between the two of you and the entrance to the building. There was little cover to get you to the door without being spotted so you now turned your gaze to the side of the factory, taking in the numerous windows and surrounding buildings, looking for routes up the walls for an alternative entrance.

“Looks like something’s going on tonight.” John pointed out with another hiccup of giggles, pulling you from your planning and turning to where he was looking, seeing the men you had been watching now moving in a group to greet a convoy of trucks were rolling up to the factory door.

“Great timing…” You muttered sarcastically, now turning back to your assessment of your surroundings, wondering why Harley – who would have known this place better than anyone – wasn’t doing this herself. “Ok.” You finally muttered, shifting uncomfortably where your legs were cramping from your awkward position. “I think I’ve got a route in.”

“Great!” John whispered excitedly, grinning and giving you a thumbs up. “Let’s go!”

You faltered, glancing back at John. You were so used to working alone, you’d forgotten he would want to come along with you. “Uh – maybe you ought to stay here?” You suggested, “You know – to – uh - keep a look out?”

John frowned. “Harley gave me the job, [Y/N],” He reminded you, jabbing a thumb at his chest. “I can’t sit it out.” He said firmly. You looked at him uncertainly, not sure how someone so bright and colourful – and often clumsy from what you’d seen – could possibly be stealthy in anyway. “I’m quiet. Promise.” John reassured you, seeing the look on your face.

You could see there was little point in arguing with him. “Fine.” You bobbed your head reluctantly. “Follow me.”

The two of you worked your way around the outside of the large courtyard you were in, keeping to the shadows and crates that lined the brick walls till you reached the edge, checking the coast was clear before pulling yourself up onto one of the crates, onto the wall. You were about to scramble onto the building next to the factory – what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse – when you noticed John wasn’t following you. You glanced back at where he remained in the shadows below you, just able to make out his nervous, fidgety movements. “John?” You asked down at him and he glanced up. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, it’s just – uh,” You could see him glance up anxiously then bow his head, running a hand through his hair. “I’m – I’m not a huge fan of – uh – heights.” He confessed, embarrassed.

You felt your shoulder sag slightly, not expecting this kink in the works. “Uh – ok,” You murmured, glancing around uneasily, aware how exposed you were at the moment. “How about I help?”

“Really?” John asked in surprise. “You’d – you’d do that?”

“Of course.” You said with a small smile, “Just – uh – follow where I went.”

“Ok, I – I can do that.” John nodded, scrambling up onto the crates and onto the wall as you now climbed up onto the building. John faltered at the next step to join you. “Up – up there?” He asked worriedly, seeing the path you were planning to take.

“Don’t worry,” You reassured him, “I’m going to help you.” You promised him, “That’s what friends do.” You smirked, holding out a hand for him.

He grinned, “O-ok.” He nodded nervously, reaching to take your hand and you pulled him up next to you.

followed after you, a little less sure in his movements, but determined nonetheless.

The climb wasn’t too difficult, though a few ledges were a bit lethal after the recent rain. Despite this, you scaled the building easily enough - John following after you, a little less sure of his movements, but determined nonetheless.

You identified the window you were after, glancing back to see it did indeed look directly at the bright neon Gotham Casino sign reflecting on the water nearby. You pointed it out to John and told him your plan. He agreed, though you could hear the uncertainty in his voice at what you were about to do.

“Oh!” He said suddenly, stopping you before you jumped. “Harley said this guy’s real OCD, so we can’t touch anything apart from what we’re after – otherwise he’ll know!”

“Right, don’t touch anything.” You nodded, then launched yourself agilely onto the opposite wall, John watching with wide eyes, his lips forming an ‘O’ in amazement – but you were just glad you hadn’t lost much balance in your time away from this sort of work. You tried jimmying the window a bit and was pleased to find, after some work, you were able to shove the window up – no one clearly bothering to lock it when it was this high up. You pushed it open as far as you could and then pulled yourself up and into the room, landing softly on the floor. You scanned the room for any sign of danger or problems, but finding the room dark and empty, turned back to the window to signal John to follow.

John landed a little less gracefully in the room, pushing himself upright and brushing his hands on his legs. “Phew.” He sighed, with a nervous giggle, “That was – uh – quite a workout.” He observed, slightly out of breath. You shot him a smirk as you turned your attention to the room again. The windows so filthy that only a small amount of light from the street lamps managed to filter into the room and what did fell onto an office not dissimilar to Harley’s current one - though a lot tidier.

“Gee, look at this place,” John exclaimed, throwing his arms wide as he took it in, “it’s so…. Precise!” He said with wide eyes. “It’s so tempting to just… Touch something….” He muttered, glancing around.

You glanced up now at the old wooden boards that made up the ceiling above you and where John had said Harley’s old stuff would be. You searched for a particularly loose or moveable one panel, but you couldn’t see anything obvious, moving silently towards the desk on the opposite end of the room. You jumped up onto it, careful not to touch any of the neatly stacked papers and stretched up to begin tapping at the boards you could reach. You suddenly froze when you heard the doorknob turn, glancing quickly behind you and thankfully breathing a sigh of relief when John turned glanced over his shoulder with a guilty grin, having been going to check for anyone nearby.

Once he’d scanned the nearby corridors and listened for any sounds, John gently closed the door again and stepped back into the room, glancing up at you. “Any luck yet, buddy?” He asked softly up at you, clearly hopeful.

You glanced back down at him. “No.” You whispered down at him. “How’s the rest of the place looking?”

“Positively empty!” He grinned, “Seems like everyone’s busy with those – uh – trucks.” He observed, “Don’t want to get too comfortable though.” He advised, and you nodded, now crouching down and dropping lithely back to the floor. You and John proceeded to scan the rest of the ceiling, then glancing around the room, trying to work out how to reach the rest of the boards without touching anything.

“Oo!” John exclaimed excitedly, suddenly spinning back around to face you. “I could – uh - give you a boost?” He suggested, lifting a finger to point upwards.

“What?”

“I could lift you up,” John said, pointing up at the ceiling, “then you can check the boards.”

You looked at him in surprise, “Are you sure?” You asked warily, glancing up at where he pointed.

“100%!” He nodded eagerly with a grin. You hesitated, though you were struggling to think of a good excuse not to – you couldn’t really tell him you were still a bit cautious about maintaining a healthy distance between the two of you or that when you touched you got weird a weird tingly feeling and became all nervous - and, after all, you were struggling to find any other alternatives.

You just hoped you weren’t too heavy.

You reluctantly gave in, moving over to John now who grinned at you, taking that as acceptance of his idea. “Ok,” You murmured. “How do you want to do thi-“ Before you could finish, John had already bent and wrapped his arms around the back of your thighs without shame, lifting you surprisingly easily into the air, making you gasp in surprise. You glanced down at the top of his green mop of hair, acutely aware of his face being ridiculously close to your stomach and his grip meaning a lot of your body was pressed against his. He lifted his head up to you now, a wide grin on his face, and you hoped your ridiculous blush was hidden by the darkness.

You felt guilty the whole time John had to hold you – as well as extremely self-conscious – so you searched quickly, relieved when one of the wooden planks finally gave way under your hand. You heard John giggle excitedly below you and felt the vibrations against your legs. You tried to ignore the feeling and pushed your hand up into the gap you had made, searching until your hand fell on something solid.

“It – it feels like a box.” You called quietly down to John.

“That’s gotta be it.” He grinned up at you and you grabbed the solid shape, pulling it down and lowering the wooden board back in place, now realising you needed to get down.

“Ok, I’ve – uh - got it,” You informed John, “You – you can let me down now.” At that, John now loosened his grip on you, letting you slip through his arms, brushing against his body, and landing with a soft squeak on the floor directly in front of him, his body still touching yours.

“Well, that was fun.” John grinned down at you shamelessly, clearly seeing nothing with your positions so close together.

“Uh – yeah.” You stuttered breathlessly - pulling out of his arms that were surprisingly still around you – and blinking, feeling almost slightly dazed. “Um – so - uh – so this is it?” You asked, trying to get your mind back on track, lifting up the small heavy box which had aged patterns engraved on it and was secured by a padlock.

“I guess so!” John said cheerfully. “That – uh – wasn’t too hard.”

You glanced around the room. “Shame we can’t take anything else.” You muttered causally, your eyes falling on a particular pile of what looked like jewellery and possibly gems – most likely from a heist pulled by the gang and payment for whoever’s office this was. “There’s quite a bit of money in here.”

“There is…” John hummed in agreement, following your gaze, “But Harley said not to…” John he muttered uncertainly, though also eying the pile of loot with a certain amount of yearning. “No.” He suddenly said firmly, shaking his head. “Harley said not to.” He told himself more than you. “We can’t have them tracking this back to her!” He exclaimed with a grin. “And I – uh,” His face dropped slightly, “I promised I wouldn’t mess anything up this time…” He muttered, glancing away, as though remembering the last time he had.

“Then – uh - let’s get out of here.” You said, lifting the box up.

“You’re right!” John exclaimed perking up again. “Out of side, out of mind! No more temptation!” He beamed.

“Sure.” You nodded.

He turned to the window then paused, making a face. “Does it – uh – does it have to be the window?” He asked, grimacing.

“’fraid so.” You laughed quietly. “Don’t worry, down’s always easier.” You reassured him. “And I’ll carry the box.” You smirked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Finished editing! haha I’ve been doing this for over about 3 hours now and it’s nearly 2am so I’m a bit exhausted (therefore i apologise if there are a lot of mistakes!). I was determined to finish it though!
> 
> I hope it’s not too bad though!

**Author's Note:**

> In general, do you want to see more of this? I have a lot of things to write - a lot of series that I haven’t finished, so I’m not sure starting another is a good idea, but I had the idea, so I thought I’d write it…
> 
> Let me me know what you think!


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